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Holy crap in a Bundt pan... Due to the recent well-publicized shortage of
amateur websites produced by assholes who consider themselves to be clever, I
have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an Ugly American living
on the cusp of a mid-life crisis, near Scranton, PA. And I’m here to serve, baby.

The State of My Fat Ass
A journal of sorts, updated every once in a while.

A return to coolness and relevance

May 4, 2007

-- Sunshine and Mumbles were in
Indiana last night, working their way across the continent on their way to Jeff and Toney’s Bed & Breakfast Inn and Old Country Saloon. Supposedly they’ll be arriving here tonight sometime.

And get this…. Toney won’t be here. She’s leaving at
noon today for a training session in Philadelphia , and won’t be returning until Saturday evening. 

So, it’s gonna be me, the kids, and Toney’s mother, for, like 24 hours in a row! Yes, the hits just keep on comin’…. If anyone needs any extra awkward silence or desperate clock-watching, just drop me a note on Monday. I’m sure I’ll be able to hook you up.

-- We already went back to the new burrito place I was telling you about. Last night they held their grand opening, you see, and all burritos were a dollar. Usually they’re $5.50, so that’s a deal. …Even for mediocre Americanized Mexican food prepared by people unsure of themselves.

As we pulled into the parking lot I saw that a radio station was broadcasting from the restaurant. Great. They had some sort of apparatus made to look like a boombox cranked way up in the air on hyper-extended scissor jacks, and I could feel some old Alanis Morissette song in my sternum.

We walked past a gang of people crowded around a table, and spinning some sort of novelty wheel. A man with a radio voice shoved a window decal into my hand, and told me that all burritos are a buck until
seven o’clock . I thanked him, stuffed the sticker into my back pocket, and will probably end up peeling it off the drum of the washing machine sometime Sunday evening.

The place was packed. There was a line from the counter almost to the door, spanning the full depth of the joint. I growled like a dog, my usual reaction to such things, and we fell into position. But it didn’t take nearly as long as I’d feared, and before we knew it we were seated with a tray full of semi-yummy burritos.

And the line to the counter continued growing, until there was a whole herd of people standing literally six inches from us. They were so close I could feel their body heat as I ate. (Good thing Americans don’t usually stink.) And every time I lifted some food to my mouth I’d see some twelve year old girl, out of the corner of my eye, watching my every move. I felt like our dinner was the opening act for Justin Timberlake, onstage at the Omni.

Oh, and just so you know… the food was still eh. I tried “steak” this time, instead of chicken, and the meat was so tough it felt like I was eating a Super Ball burrito.

They’ve only got fifteen more chances.

-- Speaking of unusually cheap food… We also took advantage of a Baskin-Robbins promotion earlier this week. They were offering-up 31 cent scoops of ice cream, and we took ‘em up on it. Oh, we took ‘em up on it real good.

I felt a bit guilty for cheating on our favorite Mom ‘n’ Pop ice cream place, but not enough to make me stay away. I ordered two scoops of something called chocolate Oreo, and it was excellent. We got four ice cream cones for less than two dollars.

And every time I think about Baskin-Robbins, it reminds me of a crazy lady I worked with in California
. She was shaped like a human bowling ball, and her car was full of garbage, literally floor to roof, except for the driver’s seat. One time she drove past me in the parking garage and I saw a box of aluminum foil on her dashboard, and a giant can of Right Guard. TF?!

Anyway… she called it “Baskin and Robbins 31 Flavors.” I don’t know why, but that always killed me. I think it was the and.

I also had a grandfather who insisted on calling K-Mart “K-Market.” And a friend who had a subscription to Sports Illustration.

Do you know anyone who gets things slightly wrong like that? Tell us about it, won’t you? ‘Cause I love that sort of thing.

And I’ve got more, lots more, but suddenly lost the will to continue…. Maybe I'll write more later? Probably not, but there's always a chance. 

I’m gonna turn it over to Buck now, and go have myself a Bacons Lover's BLT at Waffle House.

Have a great weekend, folks.

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Last updated
01/17/12 12:12 PM

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